The Ship of Dreams
by MademoiselleEnjolras
Summary: He was a twenty year old aristocrat stuck in a loveless engagement and she was a seventeen year old poor girl with a free spirit. They find themselves- together. Titanic AU; ExE; Four-Shot
1. part i

**Yes, I have two other on-going stories but this wouldn't get out of my head. We're currently watching Titanic in my Drama and Film class and I couldn't resist. This will be a four shot story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis or Titanic.**

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Part I: The Ship of Dreams

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_Rochester, New York, 1997_

Julien Enjolras sat at his kitchen table, a newspaper in his hands, the old record machine playing softly as background noise. The kitchen was bright with the light of the sun steaming through the large glass windows. He could hear his granddaughter Apolline in the distance; she was in the guest bedroom unpacking as she had insisted moving in with him to "take care of him".

The phone began to ring loudly in the living room and the 105 year old man sighed tiredly. It was most likely the media trying to get an interview with the _Titanic_'s oldest survivor. Since he turned a hundred, the media had been attempting to get a word with him. He had no other living relatives but Apolline so he had no other bets on who would be ringing.

"I've got it!" Apolline called out and he could hear her heavy footfalls on the wooden floors of the hallway. "Don't bother, Apolline. Just let it ring." Enjolras grumbled and fixed his spectacles. Despite having them on, Enjolras found himself squinting at the newspaper. The headline immediately captured his attention.

_TEAM HEADS TO THE DEPTHS OF THE NORTH ATLANTIC IN HOPES TO FIND THE HEART OF THE OCEAN WITHIN THE WATERY RUINS OF THE RMS TITANIC._

The old man let out a surprised cough and rubbed his aching chest. "Grandpa, are you okay?" Enjolras looked up into the concerned blue eyes of his granddaughter. She inherited that shade of blue from him.

"I'm alright; you worry too much, Apolline." Apolline threw her grandfather an exasperated look and took a seat next to him at the table. Her blue eyes caught the headline and she looked into her grandfather's face.

"_The Heart of The Ocean_," She murmured to herself. "What's _The Heart of The Ocean_?" The young blonde girl looked into her grandfather's face questioningly.

Enjolras looked back at her for a moment before glancing out of the window. It was a beautiful Sunday morning; the grass was green, the flowers bloomed, the sun shining. Enjolras had a brief flashback of his father's words to him. _"It was worn by Louis XVI and they called it 'Le Coeur de la Mer.'"_

"_The Heart of the Ocean_; it is—was a necklace whose pendant was a blue diamond cut out into the shape of the heart. They said it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry to exist, that it had been worn by princes and princesses, queens and kings; the heart was so blue it was termed _Le Coeur de la Mer_."

"So it did exist?" His granddaughter asked with furrowed eyebrows. Enjolras nodded at her. "It hasn't been seen in many years. It was last seen on the _Titanic_ when a rich young man gave it to his betrothed as an engagement gift."

It became silent once more and the only sound in the kitchen was the scratchy recording of an old '30s record playing.

"Will you tell me of what happened on the Titanic, grandfather?"

Enjolras looked up startled. His only daughter, Apolline's mother, had known he did not like to discuss his time on the Titanic or any of his past. He was surprised Apolline who was usually careful not to upset anyone around her and was mindful had asked him a question so bold.

The old man let out a sigh and nodded at his granddaughter. "Perhaps it is time that I share with at least you my tale." He patted her hand softly. "Why don't we move somewhere more comfortable?"

Apolline stood on her feet and rushed to help her grandfather up. She grabbed his arm delicately and helped lead him into the living room and into his favorite sofa chair. "You baby me too much, Apolline." The older man breathed heavily, overexerted from the move.

"Oh hush now, grandfather." The blonde girl sat on the couch across from him, settling comfortingly. She clutched a throw pillow to her chest and looked at him expectantly. "So?" She almost asked impatiently.

Enjolras let out a coughing laugh but then quieted down for a moment. "It's been 84 years; I still remember the first time I saw the ship, the first time I stepped on it. The date was April 10, 1912. Many people were stepping aboard the _Titanic_ to start a life a new, but me—I felt as if I was about to board a slave ship that was taking me to America, forcing me into a life I never wanted."

_Southampton, England 1912_

A piercing whistled permeated through the air and the sounds of excited passengers and inquiring officers could be heard. A twenty year old Enjolras, his parents, his betrothed, Clementine, and her mother Madame Airoldi had just arrived at the docks where the _RMS Titanic _would be departing in ten minutes time.

The young man stepped out of the automobile, his blue eyes inspecting the looming figure of the _Titanic_. He stiffened as he felt a slim arm slip through his own. "They call it the 'Ship of Dreams'. My mama told me it's unsinkable; not even God could sink this ship." Clementine told him, her green eyes following his gaze. Enjolras did not dignify her with a response and shrugged off her arm as gently as he could, walking away.

Clementine looked after him a bit disgruntled but acted as if it did not bother her, turning to her mother for conversation.

Enjolras was quite unhappy for a young man in his position. He was wealthy, educated, and had a bright future ahead of him. To him though, the future was anything but bright. His father was forcing him into a loveless marriage and burdening his shoulders with a fortune he had no interest in inheriting. The man had mapped out Enjolras' entire life and he had no say in it at all.

Now Enjolras and his family were relocating from Paris, France to the newly booming metropolis that was New York City in hopes for further advancing their business—well at least that's what his father was hoping for.

Enjolras stiffened once more when he felt a large and harsh hand grasp his shoulder. "You would do well to treat Mademoiselle Clementine with respect, Julien." His father growled quietly and after a moment his grip loosened and he replaced his scowl with a thin smile. "Now come; it is time we begin to board." The Enjolras family and the two Airoldi women ascended onto the ship.

* * *

"All aboard! We leave the docks in five minutes!" Éponine Thénardier and Musichetta Belgarde were running through the throngs of people, the two brunettes laughing out of breath, their long tresses flying out behind them.

"Hurry, 'Chetta!" The smaller and younger of the two yelled out loudly. Musichetta accidentally whacked a waving man with her small canvas bag. "Pardon!" She apologized laughing.

Just as they were getting ready to close the entrance to the ship, the two young women made it onto the wooden platform and in front of the door. "Wait—wait, sir we're passengers! We're passengers!" Éponine had yelled out, waving frantically.

The young officer couldn't have been more than three years older than Éponine, his handsome features twisted into a suspicious expression. "And you've been through the inspection?" He asked as he examined her ticket.

"Of course." Her brown eyes widened innocently. "Anyway we don't have any lice—we're Americans." Musichetta gave him a pretty grin from behind Éponine.

The young man looked from Éponine to Musichetta before finally he nodded almost nervously. "Right, of course. Come on board." He stepped aside and held out a hand to help the girls into the ship. With them being the last of the passengers to board the ship, he closed the door to the _Titanic_ shut.

Éponine and Musichetta laughed joyfully as they skipped down the halls of the quarters of the third class passengers in search of their room. The girls could not believe their stroke of luck.

Éponine had been living in Paris for the last two years and had befriended both Musichetta and Cosette. She had met Musichetta at a café, Café Musain, where they both made wage and she had met Cosette and her father there as well considering they were regular customers.

The seventeen year old had also done sketching on the side and sold her work for a sou a piece. She did not make much from that but her wages from the café were sufficient.

Éponine had been born in America to French immigrant parents and when she was fifteen she decided to leave home and soon after found herself in France; the brunette had wanted to explore and see the world. The life she was living in the small town of Chippewa Falls was not enough and so with only five dollars to her name she set out on her journey.

She had been trying to save as much money as she can in the last few months to return home; she missed her younger brother Gavroche and often worried about how he was doing back at home.

Cosette and her father had been meaning to come to America and had purchased tickets to the _RMS Titanic_ with the little money they had saved to start a new life and perhaps make a better wage. The family of two was beginning to struggle financially and had sought for improvement.

Unfortunately, they were unable to make the trek due to the failing health of the Fauchelevent patriarch. They had insisted Éponine and Musichetta accept the tickets so they would not go to waste. "You will make better use of them, my dears." He had looked so weak and pleading with his eyes, Éponine and Musichetta could not decline. It was with a heavy heart that Éponine left the Fauchelevents.

Now the two young girls found themselves in their cramped quarters and Musichetta jumped onto the top bunk easily due to her long legs.

"Why do you get the top bunk?" Éponine whined. "I am only doing you doing a favor, mon ami. I am taller; therefore it would be easier for me to climb off. Now you do not need to worry about struggling to climb down every morning for you are closer to the ground." Musichetta replied, her French accent thick.

The auburn haired girl insisted on speaking in English so that when she finally arrived in America she would have improved.

Éponine scoffed at her friend and threw her own canvas bag onto her bed. Suddenly there was a strong turbulence. The girls grinned to themselves; the _RMS Titanic_ was finally setting out to sail and they would soon be in America.

"Would you care to join me on deck, mademoiselle?" Éponine asked Musichetta, holding her arm out. The auburn haired girl jumped from the top bunk with grace. "_Oui_, mademoiselle."

* * *

The _Titanic_ was now swiftly moving and Éponine and Musichetta were on the deck which was surprisingly empty except with a few scattered people, here and there.

The two were sharing a deck chair and watching the endless miles of sea ahead of them. "It is amazing how vast it is, _non_?" Musichetta whispered, mesmerized. She stood now at the railing and felt the wind blow through her reddish locks.

Suddenly, Musichetta turned around wearing a large grin on her face. "What is the first thing you will do when we finally set foot on American soil?" Éponine let out a small laugh and was about to answer when a movement had captured her attention from the corner of her eye.

On the upper deck stood a tall and lone figure; he was a man who was no more than a couple of years older than her. He was well-dressed, handsome but the features of his face were hard and stone like. His blue eyes were glaring into the distance and Éponine wanted to know more about him.

"Hello?" Musichetta waved a long fingered hand in front of her friend's face. Her gray blue eyes followed Éponine's gaze and she let out a tinkling laugh. "I can see why he distracted you—quite handsome. Do you fancy him already?" She teased.

Éponine looked away from the man to roll her eyes at her friend. "Of course not—he'd just make a great subject to sketch." Musichetta raised a thin eyebrow and looked at her skeptically.

"Whatever you say, _mon ami_. Now come and watch the sea with me!"

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**I'm actually quite proud of this one. I'm really excited to be writing this! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! You guys can find me on Tumblr! Come and feel free to come join me! My url aar-tveit . (Tumblr) . c o m ! Come and chat with me over there any time!**


	2. part ii

**Hi, everyone. I wanted to say a thanks to those that reviewed and favorited and are following the story! I'm really excited about this one. Because this is just a short fic, I was thinking on finishing this one first and then I will focus on MMS and The Sight. I've already started the new chapter for MMS and I'll probably post it soon. I need this whole week to start prepping for finals; my first two are on Friday (eek! And one of them is math which is my absolute worse subject. Pray for me.) Hope you enjoy this chapter guys!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis or Titanic.**

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Part II: The Ship of Dreams**  
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_Friday, April 12, 1912_

Éponine and Musichetta were still on the deck, enjoying the last of the afternoon's beaming sun rays. The man that had captured Éponine's attention was long gone—she noticed this because she could hear the low tone of two arguing male voices.

The handsome blonde man seemed to have been arguing with what looked like his father—the older gentleman looked exactly like him except he was slightly shorter and had salt and pepper hair instead of his son's golden locks.

Before the man had stormed away from his father, his blue eyes glanced down below and caught her gaze. His blue eyes were icy and stormy and looked away from Éponine's curious brown ones just as quickly as they made contact and he walked off, leaving the other man standing alone.

Now it was late afternoon and Musichetta and Éponine were chatting with a kindly gentleman that had introduced himself to them not long before.

"Bonjour, mademoiselles. I could not help but have noticed the both of you down at steerage earlier. I found it would be polite to introduce myself. I am Joly." The freckled man bent down and kissed Musichetta's hand.

Éponine's auburn-haired friend was blushing prettily. "Enchanté, monsieur. You may call me Musichetta—and this is Éponine." She gave him a grin. He looked a bit flustered but returned her smile nonetheless. Then he turned to Éponine and greeted her in the same manner.

The brunette looked between the two of them, a smile tugging at her lips. "So, Monsieur Joly, what brings you on the _RMS Titanic_?" she asked boldly.

Joly let out a nervous laugh and shrugged before sitting on a deck chair beside them. "Well my family's been struggling with money since my father died and in France—things were difficult. We're going to America so that I can hopefully find a job—make some decent wage."

The wind picked up for a bit and there was a small silence amongst the three of them. "See—this is a huge sacrifice in itself, traveling. My sister—she can't walk and she has a lot of health problems. I want to come to America and learn to become a doctor—I want to help my sister and others like her."

Éponine couldn't help but look at him in awe. She smiled softly at him and breathed in deeply, enjoying the wind playing with her long brown locks. "Well—good luck to you, Monsieur Joly. I very much hope it all works out for you."

* * *

It was Enjolras' first evening as a passenger on the _Titanic_ and he was currently sitting in the dining room, picking at his meal. The young man was surrounded by loud, narrow, and pointless conversation.

He could feel his father's blue eyes, so much like his own, glaring into the side of his head. Enjolras ignored him and continued to pick at his caviar. Oh, how he _hated_ caviar. He was interrupted from his thoughts by a friendly and amused voice.

"Not a big fan of caviar, I presume?" Enjolras looked up to meet the kind, dark eyes of Mr. Thomas Andrews. Mr. Andrews was the mastermind behind the _Titanic_ and had designed the ship. He was also one of the few people Enjolras had been introduced to so far that did not make him want to throw himself overboard.

Enjolras shook his head at Mr. Andrews. "No, sir." The young man noticed that Mr. Andrews' dish was also untouched. Mr. Andrews took note of his action and let out a chuckle. "Never been one for it myself." He winked at Enjolras.

Enjolras returned his smile and was about to reply when he was interrupted by Mrs. Madeline Astor. "Mr. Enjolras, I must congratulate you on your engagement. Clementine is quite the jewel." The raven-haired woman threw a grin at Clementine who smirked at her.

Enjolras though shifted uncomfortably and stiffly nodded at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Astor," He cleared his throat and practically had to force the next words out of his mouth. "I'm very lucky to have her."

Clementine threw him a satisfied smile. Enjolras' eyes met Mr. Andrews' once more and the older man gave him a sympathetic look.

Enjolras stood abruptly, causing some of the diners at the table to jump startled. "If you'll excuse me." He bowed and walked off not allowing either of his parents or Clementine a chance to ask him where he was going. He really needed a smoke.

* * *

Éponine was lying on a bench that was located on the upper deck of the Titanic where those that were third class passengers were forbidden, gazing at the stars. She had snuck in—she heard the benches were more comfortable up there and she wanted to try them out herself.

So far the rumor proved to be untrue as she was shifting uncomfortably, the wood digging into her almost painfully.

Her musings about benches were interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps. She sits up in time to catch the back of a man's figure walking toward the end of the ship, to the railing. Her brown eyes widened a bit when she noticed it was the man from earlier that day.

He was taking a cigarette out of his pocket and was in the process of lighting it. She watched as he took his first puff and he cringed before blowing out. Éponine let a small smile play at the edge of her lips as she began to stand from the bench.

The brunette walked to him slowly on lithe feet; he seemed completely unaware of the small girl approaching him.

"Pardon, monsieur, but would you mind if I took a drag from your cigarette?" Enjolras jumped and almost dropped the cigarette into the depths of the ocean. He looked down and was met face to face with a young girl—he recognized her as the girl he had seen earlier on the deck. Her brown eyes were sparkling up at him.

He looked away from her and back out into the darkness ahead. Enjolras held out the cigarette to her. "It's not very becoming of a lady to smoke, mademoiselle."

Her brown eyes sparkled even more at his words and she let a smirk play across her pink lips as she took the cigarette from him. She raised an eyebrow at him and before she slipped the cigarette between her lips said, "Well, I've never been much of a lady, _monsieur_."

Enjolras was now facing her completely, his face curious. He raised an eyebrow at her and watched as she put the lit cigarette into her lips.

Éponine took a long drag and at the feel of the smoke in her lungs, she let out a hackling cough, dropping the cigarette. Enjolras' face became amused and he choked back a laugh. Éponine's cough turned into a strangled laugh and she grasped at her chest.

"It's okay, you can laugh." She said in between her coughing laughs. Enjolras let out a quiet laugh and the two laughed for a bit before Enjolras had quieted and his face slipped into a slight seriousness. Once Éponine had composed herself, she tucked a long strand of dark hair and grinned at Enjolras. "So you caught me—I'd never smoked before in my life."

Enjolras let a small smile crack his serious features. "I had assumed that was the case." She continued to grin at him before sticking her small hand in his face. "I'm Éponine— Éponine Thénardier."

Enjolras reluctantly grasped her hand in his and shook it softly. "I am Enjolras." Éponine's smile faltered a bit. "Just Enjolras?"

"Just Enjolras."

She pursed her lips slightly at him, continuing to watch him curiously. The young aristocrat had turned back to face ahead, the wind causing his mop curls to move about wildly.

"So—Enjolras—what are you doing out here all alone? Shouldn't you be enjoying the champagne and caviar in the fancy dining room?" She teased him.

"I needed fresh air. And I don't like caviar."

Éponine hummed at him. She didn't quite believe that he was only out here for fresh air though. He was here to escape; that she could tell. He did not seem like the others. He was very different. She could also tell he did not want to discuss himself anymore so she continued to stand by him in silence.

The only sound was that of rushing water and blowing wind. Wrapping her thin fingers on the railing, Éponine closed her eyes and relished in the stinging sensation of the wind on her face. She almost felt light, like a flying feather.

"Have you ever wondered what it was like to fly?" She heard Enjolras shift next to her and she popped open an eye to see him giving her a strange look. She let out a laugh and shrugged out of her old coat, throwing it on the ground behind him.

Enjolras' eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing?" She gave him a coy look. "You'll see."

The small brunette kicked one foot over the railing and Enjolras' heart stuttered in his chest. "Mademoiselle—what are you doing?" His voice became frantic as she was now completely over the railing, her body leaning out onto the sea, her hands the only thing keeping her attached to the railing.

"Are you insane? Get back on the ship—" He was holding his hand out to her. She was laughing loudly, her head thrown back, the wind wildly blowing her long brown locks. "I'm flying—Enjolras. Join me!"

Enjolras' chest was tight with fear. The young lady was mad and for some unexplainable reason Enjolras felt that he needed to get her back on board and to safety. "Get back on board!" Éponine groaned a bit and rolled her eyes.

"Okay—fine," She slowly and carefully turned around and right when she was about to kick one leg over the railing, her foot slipped and her blood turned cold. The brunette let out a piercing shriek and felt herself falling until a large, warm hand grasped hers.

"I've got you!" Enjolras groaned. "Hoist yourself up." Trying to calm her panicked breathing, Éponine used all her strength to hoist herself up. She breathed out a small sigh when her legs found the railing and Enjolras wrapped his arms around her, completely carrying her over the railing.

She let out a small squeak when they landed on the floor, him on top of her. Her brown eyes were closed shut and then opened slowly, clashing with Enjolras' blue eyes. She hadn't noticed earlier how the blue irises had little tints of green flecks. His face was inches from hers, the tip of his nose slightly touching hers and they were both breathing hard.

There was a beat of stunned silence; the only sound was that of their breathing and the rushing water beneath the ship. Éponine could hardly wrap around her head what has just occurred. Only she would find herself in such situations; trouble seemed to find her where ever she went.

Her lips began to tremble for a moment before she burst into laughter. Enjolras let out an irritated sigh and pulled away from her, standing up. "That was foolish what you did, mademoiselle." He glared down at her and she sat up, still laughing.

Éponine crawled over to her coat and picked it up before lifting herself off the ground. Ceasing her laughter, she bit her lip and cleared her throat, walking over to Enjolras.

She nudged his arm slightly. "Thank you, m'sieur, for saving my life." Her teeth released her lip, allowing them to spread into a smile. "You are my hero. Have a good night." She tossed him a teasing wink and ran over to the gate that would lead her out of the 1st class passenger's upper deck.

Enjolras continued to look at her until she was completely gone. It was only then that he noticed she was not even supposed to have been on this side of the ship. He let a large hand run through his mop of curls, letting out a slight, disbelieving laugh, his thoughts running.

She was something this Éponine Thénardier. She was definitely something.

* * *

Enjolras now found himself alone in his quarters. He was sat on his bed, loosening his bowtie, preparing himself for bed. He had just lifted himself when there were three sharp raps on his door.

The blonde haired man shut his eyes, sighing tiredly. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and to forget. He wanted to lose himself in his dreams, the only place where Enjolras could be free. "Come in." He called out.

His father entered his room, his shoulders arched back stiffly, his face stoic. The older Enjolras carried a large, black velvet box that was tucked into his left arm. "That was rude, leaving dinner so abruptly."

"I excused myself—"

"You left Clementine alone and she had to escort herself back to her quarters. She was rather bothered by the situation." Enjolras' jaw clenched and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "She has two legs, father. She is more than able to walk herself to her quarters _without_ latching onto my arm."

Enjolras Sr.'s face turned red with anger. He spoke in quiet tones but Enjolras knew his father was upset. "You will apologize to her and give her this gift." The man removed the black velvet box from his left arm and opened it. Inside lay a heavy looking, blue diamond necklace and Enjolras' eyes widened.

"That's the—"

"Yes—your suspicions are confirmed." Enjolras Sr.'s face had changed as he glanced down at the necklace. "It was worn by Louis XVI and they called it _'Le Coeur de la Mer_.'." Enjolras could see why; the stone that was carved out into the shape of the heart was so blue, he felt as if he were gazing at the sea itself.

Enjolras' father shut the black box with a sharp _clomp_ and held it out to his son. "Go and give it to her." With that he walked out, leaving an angry Enjolras behind. The man let out a frustrated groan and ran another hand though his hair.

Sometimes Enjolras didn't understand why he put up with him—why he let his father dictate every aspect of his life. He should just run away—and several times he had come to it but something always held him back. Perhaps he was too much of a coward.

Enjolras swallowed hard and blinked rapidly before grabbing the box that contained the necklace. He ran a hand over the top of the box, feeling the soft velvet. With a sigh he exited his room and made his way to Clementine's door.

* * *

_Saturday, April 13, 1912_

It was early morning when Éponine awoke. She had decided to forgo telling Musichetta about her near death experience the previous night but she did tell her how she finally introduced herself to Enjolras.

"Was he everything you imagined him to be?" Musichetta teasingly batted her eyelashes at Éponine as they got ready that morning. Éponine gave her an eye roll. "Oh, hush it, 'Chetta. You're in no position to tease. You seem to be quite taken with _Joly_." She sung his name, her sweet voice ringing.

Musichetta blushed prettily and harrumphed at Éponine before turning away. "Speaking of Joly, he must be waiting for me on the deck. _Au revoir, mon ami_."

"Have fun!" Éponine called out to her. In the quiet of the cramped room, Éponine let a satisfied smile cross her face. She looked around, hands on her hips for something to do. Her eyes caught a rat scurrying and her smile turned into a disgusted sigh. She turned toward her sketchbook which she made grab for.

She supposed she was in a drawing mood right now. The brunette hadn't sketched a proper picture since she arrived and she was in dire need of more material. With her sketchbook in hand, she grabbed a wool shawl and made her way up to the deck.

Upon arrival, Éponine was greeted with the sight of many different kinds of people. There were third class passengers, first class passengers, the deck a noisy area. She absolutely loved it.

Her brown eyes skimmed the crowds for a new subject and her eyes lit up when she got sight of little Cora and her father; she had met them the previous night on her way to her room. The man held the little girl against his chest as she stood on the railing. Éponine let herself smile as she began to sketch.

She did not know how much time had passed but her focus was removed when from the corner of her eye she caught a familiar sight. Enjolras was walking alone through the throngs of people. Upon this, she stood and clutched the sketchbook to her chest, walking over to Enjolras.

"M'sieur, hello!" She called to him smiling. Enjolras looked down at the smiling girl, who's brown eyes were warm and inviting. Enjolras let a small smile grace his features. "Mademoiselle, I am glad to see you are well."

Éponine let out a tinkling laugh and Enjolras felt his smile grow at the sound of it. "Yes, thanks to you. I was hoping you would join me on a stroll, m'sieur. I find myself wanting to get to know my savior." Her smile was now hopeful and Enjolras did not have it in him to turn her down.

"I suppose—" Her smile grew and she boldly wrapped her arm around his. "Great—we'll start with you. Now tell me, M'sieur Enjolras—who are you really? Where did you grow up?"

Enjolras looked down at her before glancing back up. He soon found himself telling her everything. About growing up a part of the elite in Paris, spending his summers in New York, and how he hated his childhood. "Now I'm engaged to a fine young lady and the heir to a fortune." He ended bitterly.

Éponine's mouth was a tight line and she was looking at the floor. "I am sorry if this seems too bold, but you are obviously not happy. You need to live life—make it count. Why didn't you just leave? You could be happy, you know." Enjolras' breath hitched for a moment before he pulled his arm from her grasp.

He ignored her question and kept walking straight ahead. "I've told you enough of me; it is only fair you tell me about you."

Éponine ignored the slight hurt she felt at his coldness toward her. She attempted to make her tone light. "I was born to French immigrant parents in Chippewa Falls—a small town in Wisconsin. I have a younger brother, Gavroche, and I miss him terribly. We're dirt poor, my father works at a steel mill and my mother at a textile factory." Éponine subconsciously ran a hand over the cover of her sketchbook.

"I left home when I was fifteen and I traveled a bit around before finding myself in Paris. I wanted to leave home, see places, and I wanted to draw." She gave him a small smile. "I'm just a flightless bird, going from place to place and now here I am, next to you, on my way to New York City."

Enjolras scoffed a bit, ignoring the small twinge of envy he felt. Here he was trapped and she was _free_. Éponine turned to glance at him upon hearing his scoff. "That's no way to live life, mademoiselle."

At this, Éponine felt anger begin to form. "Well the way you're living life is no way to live, either m'sieur. I'd rather live on two dollars, no home to call my own, than to live in shackles like you. And for the love of God, _stop_ calling me mademoiselle. I believed I told you I was no lady."

Enjolras was a bit annoyed at the brunette but couldn't help but be amused at her anger. "You sure have outdone yourself proving that." He replied saucily.

Éponine scoffed a bit and her cheeks flushed with anger. "You know what? I don't have to do this. I'm leaving." She readjusted the woolen shawl around her shoulders and glared at a cool-eyed Enjolras.

"I thought you were leaving." Éponine's glare faltered and she let out an aggravated groan. "Wait a minute—I don't have to leave, _you_ leave."

At this, Enjolras let out a bout of incredulous laughter. "_Me_?"

"Yes, _you_."

"How completely immature. How old are you again, mademoiselle?"

"I believe I told you not to call me that. Now go. This is my side of the ship."

"I am not going anywhere; this is a public place where all passengers are allowed to stroll as they please."

"Well, I'm not leaving either."

"Then stay—by all means."

"Fine."

"Alright."

Éponine fixed him with another glare, ignoring his amused gaze and sat on the nearest deck chair, sketchbook on her lap. Enjolras sat on the one next to her, curiously eyeing the sketchbook.

"May I?" He asked her quietly, pointing at the book. She looked at him warily before nodding her consent at him. The young man took the book from her lap and opened it carefully. He let out a breath at the drawings; they were beautiful.

There was one he particularly liked; it was of a young woman and an older gentleman, perhaps a daughter and her father. "Are these drawn from life?" He asked.

Éponine leaned over and smiled at the sketch he happened to be inspecting. "Yes—this one of Cosette and her father. I met them during my time in Paris. In fact it is because of them I am here."

Enjolras continued to look through the book and each sketch was more beautiful than the other. "You have a gift, Éponine." Her soft smile grew into a grin. He had finally stopped calling her mademoiselle.

"Thank you." His blue eyes looked up and met hers; he felt his heart jump a bit. Éponine looked away first and she stood. The brunette held her hand out to him. "Care to continue our stroll?"

Enjolras closed his sketchbook and after a moment of reluctance took her hand in his. "Lead the way."

* * *

Most of the day had gone by and Éponine and Enjolras had spent practically all of it together—talking, learning about each other. Enjolras had found himself slowly opening himself up to her, telling her of things he did not dream of even thinking.

"I always dreamed of being an artist." He told her randomly. She let out a happy laugh as she skipped beside him. "—just always wanted to run away and not have to worry about appearances or pleasing my father. I just want to _do_ something."

Éponine smiled up at him and nodded. "I understand you. Me? I've always had an endless sea of dreams. I dream about seeing the world, of being the next da Vinci. I want to be a dancer like Isadora Duncan." Éponine twirled, her arms in the sky. "I want to grace the Broadway stages in New York or be a moving picture actress!"

Enjolras found himself grinning, high on her energy. "I dream of freedom," Éponine continued, slowing down slightly. "I guess in a way I am living my dreams…I may be poor but I am free and to me that is worth more than all the money in the world." There was a breeze that picked up their hair. Enjolras' smile had softened slightly and he could not help but be fascinated by her. The two of them had come to a stop in front of the railing on the upper-deck, overlooking the people on the main deck.

"Did I mention how my younger brother and I would have spitting contests?" She broke out abruptly. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at her and she let out a small laugh. "I suppose that was sudden of me. I don't know—I was just reminded of it."

"What exactly does a spitting contest entail?" Enjolras asked with a smile. "It's simple, really. Whoever spits the farthest wins."

Enjolras looked at her perplexingly. "That is absolutely the most ridiculous thing ever—but I like it." He said with a laugh that she grinned at.

"So you've seen places." Enjolras began casually after a while. Éponine hummed at him. "Before I set off to Paris, I made a couple of pit stops. My favorite probably had to be Los Angeles. I lived there for about two weeks and I did portraits on the Santa Monica Pier selling them for ten cents apiece." Éponine ran a tongue over her lower lip as she watched Enjolras process what she was saying.

Enjolras was startled to feel a hand cover his own. "Hey have you ever been on a roller coaster?" Éponine was asking him with excitement. Enjolras let out a small chuckle. "I can't say I have." At this, the brunette let out a scandalized gasp.

"That's it—one day I'm going to take you to the pier and we're going to ride a roller coaster until we're throwing up." Enjolras let out another bellowing laugh, completely uncharacteristic of him.

"I've heard of the beaches down there. Perhaps we'll ride horses right on the beach?" Éponine nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, but I must admit I've never ridden a horse. Will you teach me to ride one like a man?"

"Only if you teach me to spit like a man."

Éponine laughed and nodded once more at him. "Yes, well come on. I'll teach how to do that right now!"

Enjolras' blue eyes blazed with something akin to excitement and they walked further down the deck, away from people. "Are you ready?" Éponine asked Enjolras, whose face was lit up like a child on Christmas day. "I'm ready."

"Okay, so watch me closely." And so he did. He watched her with such close precision that she almost lost her focus and swallowed the spit she had already begun to gather in her mouth. She leaned over and spit.

Enjolras let out a small hoot and whistled. "That was good." Éponine wiped at her chin and winked. "I know. Now it's your turn."

Enjolras began to gather spit in his mouth and breathe deeply, making hacking noises with his throat. He leaned back and then leaned forward letting the spit fly from his mouth. Éponine began to clap for him and he smiled down at her proudly. "Not bad, not bad." She was just about to open her mouth to speak once more when she saw a group of first class women making their way towards them.

"Enjolras." An older blonde woman walks over, a younger woman of about the same age as Éponine walking slightly behind her. Both of them glanced at Éponine coolly before turning back to Enjolras.

The man in question immediately straightened up his posture and once more Éponine saw him transform; he went from the funny and warm young man to the mechanical, cold, and composed one within seconds. "Mother. Clementine. Mademoiselles." He bowed down politely before glancing at Éponine.

"This is Mademoiselle Éponine. I almost knocked her down by accident earlier this morning and we were becoming acquainted with each other." Enjolras lied. Clementine's eyes flashed suspiciously as she looked Éponine down.

The fair haired young woman wrinkled her nose at her old, wool dress and worn out boots. "I'll have to apologize for my fiancée's unusual bout of clumsiness. He's not usually one to bump into people."

Éponine shifted uncomfortably but did not look away from Clementine. She gave the taller girl a tight smile. "Yes, well, that won't be necessary seeing as he already apologized himself." One of the young ladies who was standing next to a plump woman let out a small snicker. The plump woman seemed to be fighting back amusement as well.

Clementine's eyes became colder and her smile faltered. "Well. Enjolras, dear, we must be going. Dinner is in an hour." Enjolras' jaw twitched and he bowed at Éponine who smiled sadly at him. The plump woman looked between Éponine and Enjolras before quickly stepping up.

"Éponine dear, I'm Molly Brown. It would be rude not to invite you to dine with us; please come and join us for dinner tonight!" The plump woman smiled jubilantly. At this Clementine let out a small gasp.

Éponine smiled graciously at the plump woman. "Mrs. Brown—thank you for the invitation—but I do not think—"

"Nonsense. We'll have you dine with us!" Éponine was torn and she looked from Mrs. Brown to Enjolras. The young man was begging her with his eyes to accept. She turned to Molly Brown with a hesitant smile. "Very well."

Molly let out a hooting laugh. "Alright then!"

Clementine stiffly walked toward Enjolras and grabbed a hold of his arm. Enjolras walked away, Clementine at his side, his mother flanking on his other side, and two of the other women following behind him. Despite the fact that he was going back to the place he so desperately hated, he felt a bit of relief knowing Éponine would be there tonight.

Éponine stayed glued to where she was standing, watching Enjolras' retreating form. Molly was looking at her with a knowing expression. "Now young miss, what will you be wearing to dinner tonight?"

The brunette looked down at her woolen dress and back at Molly. "This?" She said uncertainly. Molly scoffed and grabbed a hold of her arm. The other girl that had snickered came to her other side. She was a pretty brunette with large blue eyes that looked like Molly's. "I'm Catherine. You can borrow one of my dresses." She inspected Éponine for a moment, who shifted self-consciously. "Although it may be a bit big on you."

Éponine smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you." Catherine smiled at her and laughed slightly. "No, thank _you_. I've been waiting to hear someone give Clementine a little tellin' to."

* * *

"We're headed this way dear," Molly had her hand on Éponine's lower back as she led her to the first class passenger's lobby. The young girl's eyes were wandering about with awe; if she thought steerage was one of the best accommodations she'd seen, she was a fool.

Everything was carved out of shiny wood and everything was polished and new. Éponine could not help but feel slightly out of place in her borrowed pink dress and her hair curled fancily as she and the Brown family walked down the staircase in the lobby.

The Brown family consisted of Molly herself, her husband, her 23 year old daughter, Catherine, and her son Lawrence. Neither Lawrence nor Molly's husband were aboard the Titanic; Lawrence was living in America and his wife had recently given birth to an ill son which was why the Browns were their way back to America.

Once they made it to the bottom, Éponine stood awkwardly next to a pillar as the Browns continued to the dining room. Molly had noticed the young woman was no longer at her side and turned questioningly. "Well aren't you comin' along, darlin'?"

"I think I'm just going to wait here for Enjolras." Éponine replied. Molly and Catherine raised their eyebrows at her. "Well alright then. We'll be waiting in the dinin' room."

When the two women had walked off, Éponine let out a nervous breath and began to pace in front of the staircase. "Excuse me, miss." A gentleman excused himself when he accidentally bumped into the pacing Éponine. The brunette only acknowledged him with a distracted nod.

Enjolras was coming down the steps when his blue eyes caught a pacing figure in pink; the dress was slightly big on her but not dreadfully so. Her brown curls were pinned to her head elegantly and she was wringing her glove clad hands nervously. His breath hitched when he realized the young lady was Éponine.

She was a stunning vision—not that she hadn't been beautiful before in her old woolen dress. The young girl still seemed obvious to him watching her and he let a smirk play on his lips, taking this to his advantage.

He steps up to her quietly and taps her shoulder. Enjolras felt her jump slightly and she whipped around to see who it was. The tension in her face smoothed out and she smiled at Enjolras in relief. "M'sieur." Enjolras smiled back and bent down to capture her hand in a kiss.

Éponine let out a small giggle and Enjolras straightened back up joining in her laughter. "I must say, you clean up well. You can almost pass for a real lady." He teased her.

"Almost!" Éponine pointed a finger at him. Enjolras offered her his arm which she accepted gratefully. "It is so hard to walk in these horrid shoes. They're death traps I tell you." She referred to the high heeled shoes Catherine lent her. Thankfully they were the same size in shoes.

"Where are your parents and your _betrothed_?" She asked him as they walked into the dining room. Enjolras cleared his throat awkwardly before answering. "Mother, Madame Airoldi and Clementine were still getting ready when I left. Clementine was claiming to feel unwell, but I don't buy it. Mother and Madame Airoldi stayed behind to look after her. I don't know where father is."

"Madame Airoldi?" Éponine questioned curiously.

"That would be Clementine's mother."

She raised her eyebrows understandingly and nodded slowly. "Oh." Enjolras leaned down to whisper to her. "Are you ready to mingle with some of society's best?"

"I was born ready."

Enjolras let out a chuckle and led her to his usual dining table. When they had arrived, the gentlemen at the table stood to greet them. "Good evening, Enjolras. Who is this?" J.J. Astor, the richest man on the ship, asked curiously glancing at Éponine.

Before Enjolras could answer for her, Éponine spoke up with a charming smile. "Éponine Thénardier, sir."

"Well, it is lovely to meet you, miss. Please have a seat." Éponine smile graciously and sat down with mock gracefulness when Enjolras pulled a chair out for her. Catherine threw Éponine a smirk from across the table.

"So what's for dinner?" She asked with a grin and the table laughed at her cheekiness. Éponine spared a glance at Enjolras who was smiling down at his glass of water.

"We are still missing a couple of people, miss, so until they arrive we will not know. Now, why don't we introduce ourselves?" Astor responded with a polite smile. And so the introductions were passed.

Éponine met Mr. Andrews a kind man with a welcoming face and numerous other people whose names she forgot a moment after she was told. The conversation around the table was interrupted when at last arrived Clementine, Madame Airoldi, and Madame Enjolras.

The gentlemen at the table stood to greet the women, who sat down with arched backs, noses in the air. "My dear Aiden sends his apologies; he will not be dining with us tonight." Enjolras' mother piped up. Her dark eyes coolly inspected Éponine.

"Miss Thénardier, was it? It is nice to see you could join us." Éponine smiled back tightly. "It is nice to be here, Madame."

J.J. Astor, completely obvious to the new tension that had settled around the table, clapped his hands twice joyfully. "Let us eat then!"

* * *

The end of dinner was approaching and Éponine had finally relaxed somewhat after a couple of glasses of champagne. Dinner had been surprisingly uneventful; she spoke a bit with Mr. Andrews and asked him about the ship and she told the table of some of her childhood. Most of them seemed impressed but Clementine, her mother, and Madame Enjolras kept shooting her looks that she smirked at.

"Well, will you gentlemen be joining me in the smoke room for a brandy?" J.J. asked as he stood. All of the men stood with him, except Enjolras who stayed seated next to Éponine. "You won't be joining us, lad?"

Enjolras shook his head politely. "Not tonight, sir. Thank you." Mr. Astor nodded at him and turned to Éponine with a polite smile. "Miss Éponine, it was an absolute pleasure to have you dine with us. You must join us once more." He bowed politely and walked out of the dining room, the rest of the men in tow.

The table was slightly silent for a moment before the conversation picked up with Molly. Éponine was smiling awkwardly and leaned in closer to Enjolras to say something to him. Enjolras came closer to her as well. "It's time I take my leave, m'sieur."

Enjolras' eyebrows furrowed in disappointment but he nodded. "Of course, Éponine." The young man stood and Éponine followed suit. The table silenced at the movement. "It is time for me to take my leave," Éponine announced. "I thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Brown. It is appreciated."

Catherine pouted slightly. "But it is so early!" She protested. Éponine gave her an amiable smile. "Yes, but I am rather exhausted. I will return your dress tomorrow morn—" The small brunette was cut off when Catherine waved her hand at her.

"Nonsense! You can have it. It looks better on you anyway." Éponine's eyes widened slightly. "Thank you very much." Catherine grinned at her. "Think nothing of it! Good night, Éponine."

"Good night." Éponine replied and then turned to Enjolras. She playfully held out her hand expectantly. He bit back a smile and he grasped her hand, kissing it. His eyes widened slightly as he felt a piece of paper being slipped into his hand. He discreetly tightened his hold on her hand for a moment before he let go.

"I will see you around, m'sieur." Éponine gave him a meaningful look before she turned from the table, waved once more, and made her way out of the dining room and ignoring Clementine's glares.

Enjolras sat back down and refused to meet the stares his mother and Clementine were throwing his way. He carefully unfolded the wrinkled piece of paper to see Éponine's endearingly messy scrawl. _Meet me by the clock. It's time for you to see how the third class does things. –Éponine_

Enjolras' lips twitched and he looked up into the suspicious eyes of Clementine. He cleared his throat as he stood. "I'm heading to my quarters—I'm feeling quite unwell." Clementine jumped up too. "I'll come with you, dear."

"No—no stay. I'll be fine. Enjoy yourself." He stalked out of the dining room with a polite nod at the table. Clementine sat down slowly and turned her head to watch him leave, her suspicious eyes not leaving his figure until he was out of sight.

When Enjolras exited the dining room and made his way onto the lobby he saw Éponine nervously standing at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were moving about the room in rapid succession when they finally caught sight of Enjolras who was making his way to her.

When he made it in front of her she gave him a grin full of zest and excitement. "Are you ready for a real party?"

* * *

"Come on!" She laughed as she tugged him down the stairs and into a room that was booming. It was full of loud drums and the sound of pipes; cheers and clapping. There were couples jumping and twirling about the place, full glasses of beer being passed about, and smoke billowing from the cigarettes of smoking men.

Enjolras loved it.

Éponine removed the combs that were holding her hair in the elegant twist and her brown curls tumbled down her back. She stuffed the combs into the pocket of her dress and she removed her shoes, kicking them to a corner near an empty table.

The song that was playing ended and the room clapped loudly before a new beat began to fill the room. "Éponine!" Enjolras heard a woman cry. Both he and the girl in question turned to see a tall, auburn haired girl make her way over to them, a young man in tow.

Éponine let a happy smile take over her face as Musichetta wrapped her long arms around her in a hug. "You came! Finally!" Musichetta then turned her eyes on Enjolras questioningly. "You must me M'sieur Enjolras! Éponine has told me of you. It is nice to meet you."

Enjolras smiled uncomfortably but nodded politely. "It is nice to meet you as well, mademoiselle." The young man behind Musichetta offered his hand to Enjolras for a handshake. "I am Joly." He introduced himself.

Enjolras shook his hand steadily. "It is a pleasure." The group was interrupted by another young man rushing to join them. He stepped up in between Musichetta and Joly, throwing his arms around them both.

The new young man had blue eyes and a mop of curly, black hair. "Welcome! _You_," He pointed a finger at Éponine. From his voice, he was obviously inebriated. "Must be the lovely Éponine. I have heard much about you, mademoiselle." He stumbled a bit and Éponine let out a small laugh.

"I am Grantaire," He continued and then he offered a hand out to her. "Would you care to join me for a dance?" Éponine hesitated and looked at Enjolras with concern. He smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine—I'll just sit here."

She grinned at him and allowed Grantaire to pull her into the throngs of people. Musichetta had pulled Joly away not long after and Enjolras was sat comfortably at the table. Despite sitting alone, he was enjoying himself watching the people interact.

He jumped when two obviously drunk men fell off the platform which worked as a makeshift stage and let out a laugh when they began to wrestle on the floor.

Éponine was cackling with joy as Grantaire twirled her; she was getting slightly dizzy but allowed herself to continue being twirled faster and faster. Grantaire began to slow her down as the song came to a close.

"Thank you for the dance, mademoiselle." Grantaire clumsily bowed at her. She curtseyed back at him, just as clumsily. "The pleasure was mine, m'sieur." The two separated ways when Grantaire caught the eye of a pretty blonde seated in a corner all by her lonesome.

Éponine picked up her dress as she stepped over people, making her way to Enjolras. There were two full glasses of beer at their table and she picked one of them up, chugging it at once. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked at Enjolras' awed look.

The brunette held out her hands to him as the beginnings of a new song began. "Let's dance!" She yelled over the music. Enjolras shook his head at her. "I don't know how to!" She walked over to him and dragged him out of his chair.

"First of all, take this off!" She tugged at his coat. He removed it with ease and then looked at her expectantly. "Now this!" She pointed at the bowtie around his neck. He also removed the offending clothing article and allowed her small hands to take his and lead him into the dance floor.

"Now you put your hands—here." She stepped closer to him and took one big hand, placing it on her slender waist, the other one remaining high and connected to hers. Her eyes searched his for a sign of discomfort but found none. "And we move to the beat." She led him in an easy movement and soon enough Enjolras began to loosen up.

The two of them jumped to the drums and he twirled her, the sound of her joyful shrieking and happy laughter causing him to join in her laughter.

The dancing couple was completely obvious to the tall, graceful figure of Clementine Airoldi, bent over the staircase, glaring daggers at them.

* * *

After a couple of dances and a short chat with Joly and Musichetta, Enjolras and Éponine were making their way back to the deck. They had decided to go for a walk to cool themselves down and were enjoying having the usually packed deck to themselves; there were only a couple of people walking around, all of them keeping to themselves.

"When I was a little girl, my papa would sing a song to me. It was my favorite—we'd sing it together all the time. Would you like me to teach it to you?" The childlike excitement was back in her brown eyes as she looked at Enjolras.

Enjolras nodded at her. "Teach me." Éponine cleared her throat. "Okay it goes like this. _Come Josephine in my flying machine! Going up she goes! Up she goes!_" Éponine then spent the next ten minutes trying to get Enjolras to memorize the lyrics.

"I think you're getting the hang of it! Sing it with me!" Éponine picked up the song from the beginning and began to laugh when Enjolras stumbled across the words. "Wait—those aren't the words." He laughed at himself.

Éponine patted his shoulder. "Don't worry you'll get the hang of it." The two of them had slowed down their walk and were now leaning against the rail. Éponine arched her neck back to look at the sky.

"They're so beautiful." She murmured. Enjolras followed her gaze to see she was looking at the stars and hummed in agreement. "They're so vast—endless." Enjolras was startled out of his trance when she began to pat his shoulder in rapid succession. "Enjolras look! A shooting star—make a wish!"

Enjolras let a smile cross his lips at the sight of the star, his eyes following it. He closed his eyes quickly and made a wish. When he opened them she was giving him a playful smile. "What did you wish for?" She asked him.

The smile on his face faltered slightly, his eyes softening a bit. "Something I can't have." He answered. Éponine's smile fell slightly as well, a dull throb in her chest. Enjolras hesitantly stepped closer to her and let his hand stroke her cheek. Éponine closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

Just as quickly as the caress came, it was gone and Enjolras pulled away from her. "I—I have to go. Good night, Éponine." He gave her a smile that didn't touch his eyes and began to walk in the direction that would take him to his quarters.

"Good night," Éponine called out softly and watched him as he continued to walk away.

* * *

_Sunday, April 14, 1912_

Enjolras was seated at breakfast early, surprised that he was not already joined at the table by anyone. He was sipping his coffee when his father stormed in. Enjolras let out a sigh; from the look on his father's face he was displeased and Enjolras could only wonder what he did wrong now.

Aiden Enjolras sat across from his son, his face blank. "Clementine came to me extremely distressed last night."

Enjolras rolled his eyes slightly. "What did I do to displease her now, father?" Enjolras Sr.'s eyes flashed a steely glint.

"She told me that she followed you and that riff-raff Molly Brown invited to dinner last night down to the steerage. She said you were fraternizing with the commoners—dancing with _her_." He slammed his fist on the table and the mousy maid, Angelique squeaked with fright.

"You will no longer associate yourself with that whore or with those commoners!" Enjolras felt anger begin to bubble. He stood abruptly, knocking the chair from under him.

"Éponine is not a whore and you will not refer to her in such a derogatory manner!" Enjolras' father also stood and knocked his own chair. He grabbed Enjolras by the shirt and held him close, gazing at him with hooded, menacing eyes.

"You will apologize to Clementine and you will stay away from that girl." His voice was deadly and quiet. Enjolras broke loose from his father's grasp and shoved him away. He straightened his suit and walked out of the room, but not before apologizing to a shaking Angelique softly, defeat coloring the tone of his voice.

* * *

Éponine found herself on deck once more the next morning. She was on a high from last night and could not stop thinking of Enjolras. Sketchbook in hand, she continued roaming the deck in search of the blonde gentleman.

Her already large smile widened when she caught sight of the man she was looking for but was replaced with a frown when she saw who he was standing with. Enjolras was stood in front of Clementine, grasping her delicate hands in his, speaking to her in hushed tones.

Clementine let out a please squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck. Éponine felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Clementine's green eyes sparkled with malice when they met Éponine's sad brown ones.

Quickly masking her face, Éponine turned away from the couple and set off in the opposite direction. She was a fool; did she really believe Enjolras would leave everything behind for _her_?

She was the poor daughter of two immigrants; she had nothing to her name. Enjolras may say he hates everything in his life, but it is all he had ever known.

She was stupid enough to think he would leave it all behind for her. Éponine could not speak to him anymore. She had to protect her heart; it was the only thing she had that she could truly call her own—except she wasn't sure it was hers anymore.

* * *

After Enjolras had forced an apology and false promises to Clementine on the deck early that morning, he had escorted her down to the chapel for Sunday Mass.

He was currently seated in the pew, attempting to keep his eyes from closing shut. Enjolras had spent the night thinking of Éponine and the whole morning wondering what she was doing.

A dazed smile crossed his features as he thought of her tinkling laugh and genuine eyes. His thoughts were interrupted by a nudge on his shoulder. "It is time to go, dear." Clementine was looking at him strangely.

"I'm going for a walk. I will see you for dinner." He promised her and exited the pew, leaving her sitting disgruntled.

Not long after, Enjolras found himself on the deck, searching for Éponine. His blue eyes lit up when he caught her sitting alone in a corner, sketchbook open in her lap. The young aristocrat walked up to her, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Hello, Éponine." The brunette gives him a long, hard look before glancing back down at her sketchbook. "Would you mind moving? You're blocking my subject." She said in a monotonous voice.

Enjolras' smile faded, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Éponine?" She ignores him and continues to sketch. "Are you alright? Did I do something?"

Gritting her teeth, Éponine slammed the sketchbook shut and lifted herself from her sitting position. "Don't you understand, Enjolras? We come from different worlds—you and I? We're not meant to be—_anything_." She let out a shaky sigh, ignoring the stinging in her eyes. "I think it best we just don't speak to each other anymore."

Enjolras felt a blow in his chest. "Éponine? No—" The brunette girl continued walking but he was not going to let her go so easily. "Would you stop for a moment and listen to me?" He growled out, grabbing her wrist and turning her to face him.

"You don't get to do that. You don't get to speak to me, get to make me _feel_ something for you and then turn from me." His voice was desperate and Éponine continued to half-heartedly struggle against him.

"Éponine—you're the most amazing person I've ever met, you made me see things from a different perspective, you've challenged me. And you cannot just turn from me—I'm too involved now. I can't let you turn away—I care about you, Éponine. Like I've never cared for anyone before."

He was breathing hard now, his eyes searching her own. Éponine closed her eyes tightly and turned away. "I can't—I'm sorry." She pulled away and this time Enjolras let her go, and he watched her retreating figure, his face dumbstruck.

* * *

It was now late afternoon and Enjolras had spent the day by himself aimlessly walking about the ship, hoping he would run into the small brunette that had been dominating his thoughts. He was a fool—he should not have let her go so easily.

He was now standing in the only other place he assumed Éponine would be; down in the common room for the third class passengers. As soon as he entered, the loud chatter died down and everyone openly stared at him.

Musichetta who had been chatting with Joly and his younger sister Belle, stood quickly and approached the lost looking young man. "Monsieur Enjolras—what are you doing down here?"

Enjolras looked relieved to have found a familiar face. "Mademoiselle Musichetta, have you seen Éponine?" At the mention of her friend's name, Musichetta's face fell a bit.

"She will kill me when she figures it was I that informed you where she is," Musichetta told him. "You will most likely find her brooding on the stern of the ship. That is her favorite place on board." Musichetta gave him a soft smile and nodded at him before walking back over to Joly.

"Thank you!" He called out to her and rushed back up the stairs, continuing on his quest to find Éponine.

* * *

The sun was setting and the late afternoon brought with the setting sun and a chilly breeze. Éponine was leaning against the railing, facing the horizon. "You're not an easy person to fine, Éponine."

The brunette jumped slightly at the voice and turned to face Enjolras. He was smiling softly at her, hands in his pockets as he shifted nervously in front of her. She sighed wearily. "What are you doing here, Enjolras?"

"Don't fight it, Éponine." He murmured as he stepped closer to her. His hands made grab for hers and he held them softly. "Don't fight it. Weren't you the one who told me to just live—to make it count?"

The brunette sagged against him and let him wrap his arms around her comfortably. The two of them just stood in silence, relishing in one another's presence. The silence was broken when Éponine suddenly spoke up. "You know—I never really enjoyed my moment."

Enjolras looked down at her confusion. "What?" Éponine smiled up at him. "You, m'sieur interrupted me that day I went flying." She teased.

Enjolras looked at her disbelieving. "And I saved you from plunging to your death." Éponine laughed and neared the railing. The brunette stepped onto the railing, holding on carefully. "Come fly with me, Enjolras?" She asked him softly.

Enjolras stepped behind her, also putting his feet on the railing. He put his hands on her waist, holding her against him, her head resting back on the crook of his neck. The brunette lifted her arms horizontally and let the wind blow in her face.

Enjolras was filled with a sudden adrenaline; the wind in his face, the feeling of Éponine beside him. He felt weightless. "I'm flying." He whispered in her ear.

Éponine laughed in response. "_We're_ flying." Enjolras let a grin take over his face and he leaned closer to her ear. "_Come Josephine in my flying machine, Going up she goes! Up she goes!_" Éponine delightedly giggled. "You remember the lyrics!" She cried out.

Together their voices blended as they began to bellow out the song, louder and louder; the lighting of the setting sun painting them in hues of oranges and reds and yellows. "_Oh! My! The moon is on fire, Come Josephine in my flying machine. Going up, all on, Goodbye!_"

As they finished the song, Éponine let out little bouts of laughter. She craned her neck to look into Enjolras' darkened blue eyes. He too was looking at her, a soft smile hinting at the edge of his lips. The brunette lifted her one of her arms higher to wrap it around Enjolras' neck.

Shutting his eyes, Enjolras leaned in closer to her face; the only sound that was overcoming his senses was that of Éponine's labored breathing. His heart drummed in his chest when finally, her soft lips connected to his and together, and their lips moving in a graceful, complicated dance.

When their lungs burned and protested for air, they pulled away. Éponine snuggled closer to him, his arms tightening around hers.

"I'm getting off with you when the ship docks."

At this Éponine let out a startled gasp. "Enjolras— are you sure?" Enjolras kissed her temple.

"I've never been surer than anything in my life."

* * *

**This is the longest chapter I have ever written in my life. 22 pages long. Whew. I really hoped you guys liked this one! I'm pretty proud of it! Also, I know that Molly Brown's daughter was not on board with her on the ship—she opted stayed in Paris. It would have made more sense to add her to the story though, so I decided to keep her. Any who, I hope to see everyone's responses!**

**You guys can find me on Tumblr! Come and feel free to come join me! My url aar-tveit . (Tumblr) . c o m ! Come and chat with me over there any time!**


	3. part iii

**YOU ARE ALL NOW READING AN UPDATE FROM AN OFFICIAL HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATE—WHO IS REALLY REALLY SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT SO LONG FOR THIS UPDATE.**

**I meant to have this out way way waaay sooner but I've been all over the place and when I wasn't all over the place, was plagued with that icky disease called laziness. Alas the update is here so-**

**We're almost done guys. I really want to thank everyone that's been reviewing, favoriting, etc. You guys are awesome. I also want to give a shout out to Audrey (paigearkinn on Tumblr) for making a beautiful graphic/photoset for this story and adding it to her Infinite List of Enjolras/Éponine Fanfiction (post/51209870997). You should all check her out; she's awesome!**

**WARNING****: Things get a little heated down there. Not really smut but yeah, just to be safe—a warning. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything sadly.**

* * *

Part III: The Ship of Dreams

* * *

"Don't worry. The suite's empty as everyone is at dinner." Enjolras told Éponine as he opened the door to the suite his family was occupying. The gentleman stepped aside and let her enter first, watching her closely as she took in her surroundings.

Éponine's brown eyes were wide, as they caught sight of a painting. She instantly recognized the work of the artist. "Is that Monet? _My God_." She breathed out as she knelt down, inspecting it. Enjolras let out a small laugh as he went into his room to change into more comfortable clothes.

"Yes, that's Monet," He called from his bedroom. "A fan of his work, I take it?" Éponine stood from the painting and walked around the sitting room to look around more. "Oh, yes!" She called back distractedly.

A moment later, Enjolras walked out of his room and back into the sitting room. At the sound of his footsteps, Éponine turned to look at him, a smile lighting her features. "So, Enjolras, I seem to recall you told me you've always wanted to be an artist. Are you any good?"

Shifting awkwardly on his legs, he shrugged at her. "Maybe."

Éponine though, wasn't having it. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Maybe? Come on, Enjolras. Show me your work!" The brunette was playfully batting her eyes at him. "Please!"

Enjolras let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair almost nervously. "Very well, then. Wait here." He told her and walked back into his bedroom. Enjolras looks inside his wardrobe for his trunk and after digging through it, he finds his own sketchbook.

When he walked back out into the sitting room, Éponine was sitting on the sofa playing with her fingers anxiously. "Here it is." Enjolras placed the sketchbook into the impatient girl's lap and stepped away, looking at her nervously, as she opened it.

Her breath hitched as she turned to the next page. His work was beautiful. His sketches ranged; there was one of the Eiffel Tower, and one of a church. She noticed with each page she turned that Enjolras only sketched landscapes and buildings.

"This is beautiful, Enjolras." She told him with a grin as she closed the sketchbook. She outstretched her arm and handed it back to him. "Although, I couldn't help but notice that none of your subjects are human. Why?" She asked him curiously.

Enjolras sat down next to her and shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps it's because I've never found the right person to draw. When I pick a subject, I find that I must have inspiration to draw it. I've never been much of a people person—I believe that is why I haven't drawn a person yet. Besides, I probably wouldn't be too good at it."

Éponine hummed at him and looked down at her lap. "Well, why don't you try and draw me?" She sat up straighter and playfully gave him a look of airiness. "I don't know about you, m'sieur, but I find that I would make an excellent subject."

Enjolras laughed slightly through his nose and looked down at his lap. "I don't know—" Éponine scoffed at him. "Enjolras, please! It would make excellent practice!"

"All right, all right." She stopped her pleading and smiled victoriously. The brunette stood up from the couch and moved the sofa chair in the corner across from it. "Get up." She told Enjolras and when he stood, she tried to angle the couch toward the sofa chair.

"What are you doing?" He asked her with amusement as she struggled to move the couch. "You'll see. Now help me move this thing." Enjolras did as he was told and when they had successfully angled the couch, Éponine stepped back and admired it. "Perfect."

The small brunette grabbed Enjolras by the shoulders and pushed him toward the sofa chair. "Have a seat." She then grabbed the sketchbook and threw it on his lap.

"Éponine?" Enjolras questioned. The smile on his face faded and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. "What in God's name are you doing?" The brunette had tossed her shawl aside and was beginning to undress.

Éponine looked back up at him, smirking with mirth. "What does it look like, m'sieur? Don't tell me you've never seen a girl naked before?" She laughed at him. He gave her a hard look. "'Ponine, stop undressing yourself right now."

She paused for a moment before speaking. "Enjolras, I want you to draw me wearing nothing." He furrowed his eyebrows at her and averted his eyes quickly. "Éponine, please—"

He jumped at the sound of her dress hitting the floor. He heard the sound of rustling near the couch and of hands moving pillows.

"You can look up you know."

Cautiously, his blue eyes looked up and were met with the stunning vision that was Éponine. She lay across the sofa casually; it was almost as if she belonged there. The brunette was a beauty; smooth skin and never ending curves.

Swallowing hard and ignoring the heat he felt in his face, he cleared his throat and picked up his drawing utensil. She was laughing with amusement, her dimples in full display.

"Look at you blush, m'sieur _artiste_." He gave her a mock glare. "If you want me to draw you, I would suggest you stop moving." She poked her tongue out at him quickly before letting her face become much more serious.

"Okay, I'm ready. Turn me into a piece of art."

And so he did. He started off slowly, starting with the curve of her breast and moving on to the curves of her waist. He drew out her graceful neck and her petite hands. Enjolras did not miss one detail on her; he even drew out the freckle that dotted her left collarbone.

It was about a half hour later when Enjolras blew on the sketch. He smiled proudly at it and then closed his sketchbook. He heard Éponine sitting up. "About time! My neck was starting to cramp up." She joked.

Enjolras stood and turned away to give her privacy as she redressed herself. When Éponine was fully clothed once more, she made her way to Enjolras and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Let me look at it!"

She unwrapped one of her arms to grab the sketchbook and open it. Her breath hitched when she took sight of the drawing. The brunette let the other arm that was around him drop and with both hands clutched the sketchbook. She sat on the abandoned sofa chair with an ungraceful plop.

"Enjolras this is—stunning," Enjolras gave her a nervous smile. "You know, I'd say this is one of the best sketches I've ever seen but we all know that's a lie. I mean, have you seen _mine_?" Éponine winked at him and he let out a laugh.

"Ever the modest one." He told her as he took the sketchbook from her hands. "I think it's time we start heading out. Give me a few moments to pack some things." Éponine's smile faltered and she nodded at him.

"Would you like some help?" Enjolras nods at her and leads her into his bedroom. "You can start packing up some of the clothes in here." He points toward his trunk. Enjolras then made way to his desk and grabbed some parchment where he wrote out a simple message to his father.

_Don't bother looking for me—forget I was ever your son. –Enjolras_

He folded up the letter and stood. "I'll be back—" Enjolras stepped out and made way to his parents' room.

He walked to the safe his father insisted on lugging around and cracked it open. Once it was open he grabbed a couple of stacks of money that he knew his father would not miss—something he and Éponine could start a modest life from. He then proceeded to stuff the letter in the safe and closed it shut.

Because he knew it was a cold night and that Éponine did not have a jacket on her, Enjolras made grab for two warm coats that were hung on the coat rack by the door.

When Enjolras came back into his bedroom, Éponine had finished stuffing the last of his clothes in the trunk. He threw the heavy coat her way and she grabbed it. "What's this?" She asked.

He smiled at her and pulled the trunk off his bed. "For you—it's cold out there tonight." Éponine smiled back and was about to thank him when she was cut off with a voice that made them both freeze.

"Enjolras, darling?" Clementine called from the sitting room. Enjolras and Éponine glanced at each other with wide eyes and Éponine made grab for the trunk. "Leave it—put the coat on, let's go." He hissed at her.

Clementine heard the hissing voices and furrowed her eyebrows, making her way to the source of the noise: Enjolras' bedroom. She flew into the bedroom, green eyes narrowed. "Enjolr—" She last caught sight of flowing brown hair and the door in Enjolras' room that led to the hallway closing when she entered.

The fair haired girl's nostrils flared angrily and she picked up her skirt, following them out the door. Clementine looked to the left, then the right and caught sight of them walking briskly. "Enjolras!" She called out angrily.

Both Éponine and Enjolras stopped walking for a moment and turned to look at her slowly. Clementine strutted toward them, her blonde curls bouncing. "Enjolras—"

Enjolras grabbed Éponine's hand tightly. "Run!" The brunette let out an amused laugh and the two of them began to jet off, just as Clementine approached them.

Clementine let out an unlady like grunt of frustration and picked up her skirt once more, bounding after them. On their way through the B-Deck Foyer, Éponine accidentally knocked into a man pushing a cart, overturning the whole thing.

"I'm sorry!" She called out, laughter in her voice. Not far behind them, Clementine found herself tripping over the cart. The man that had been pushing it rushed to help her up and she pushed him away rudely. "Out of my way!"

Éponine and Enjolras let out hysterical laughter at the startled faces of the people they passed. The two finally made it to the elevator and rushed in. "Take us down! Quickly!" Enjolras pressured the operator who in turn scrambled to close the gate and take them down. "ENJOLRAS!" Clementine shrieked as the elevator lowered.

Her flushed cheeks turned redder in anger when she saw Enjolras wrap an arm around Éponine's waist and the brunette threw her a teasing smirk, waving at her with wiggling fingers. Finally the couple disappeared from view.

Éponine and Enjolras continued to laugh loudly as they stumbled through the F-Deck corridors. They leaned against each other and took breaths to calm their laughter. "I can't believe she ran after us." Éponine said as they resumed their walk; this time more slowly and with coordination.

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "I can't either." Éponine let out another laugh. "Do you think she's still—" Her sentence trailed off when she caught sight of a fuming Clementine standing at a cross corridor nearby.

Reaching blindly for Enjolras' hand, Éponine led him down another way. "Let's go—this way!" Clementine's searching green eyes caught sight of them and began charging after them.

The couple slid as they turned a corner and were trapped. The only way to go was through a door marked CREW ONLY. Ignoring the roaring sounds coming from behind the door, Enjolras opened it and shoved himself and Éponine behind it. Clementine was ready to barge in after them but with quick reflexes, Éponine found herself slamming the door in her face, sealing the deadbolt on the door.

Clementine's banging and angered cry of, "Your father will hear about this Julien Enjolras and he will not be happy!" were drowned out by the roaring of what seemed to be the boiler room.

After a moment of just the sound of roaring machinery, Enjolras and Éponine look to each other and laugh. "Do you think she's gone?" Éponine called out to him.

Enjolras looked at her with confusion. "What?" Éponine though just shook her head and grabbed his hand, moving away from the door and towards a ladder. "Shall we?" She yelled into his ear and grinned at him expectantly.

Enjolras hesitated for a moment before motioning to the ladder. "After you, mademoiselle."

* * *

After passing the alarmed faces of the workers in the boiler room and escaping a particularly agitated one, Éponine and Enjolras made it into what appeared to be where the cargo in the ship was stored.

There were rows and rows of stacked cargo and the two gazed around in curiosity. Wiping the sweat that had collected around her eyebrow, Éponine's eyes caught sight of a brand new vehicle and her lips pulled into an excited smile.

"Would you look at that?" She immediately hopped into the driver's seat, removed the jacket Enjolras had given her, throwing it to the side. Enjolras could not help but play along with her childish antics, and climbed into the back seat. "Where to, monsieur?" Éponine pretends to tip back an invisible hat.

Enjolras bellows a laugh and lowers the window that was a barrier between the driver and passengers, reached down and grabbed her waist. He hoisted her in through the window, a smile etching across his face at the sound of her delighted laughter.

The two of them settled against the comfortable leather seat, Enjolras wrapping his arm around her shoulders, huddling her to his chest. Éponine breathed in his scent; he smelled of mint and sweat and the scent brought comfort to her.

She slowly reached down and grabbed his large hand, twining her fingers with his. She cleared her throat slightly. "Are you nervous?" She asked, her voice muffled slightly.

Éponine felt a slight vibration come from his chest when he hummed in response. "No," Came his quiet and pensive voice. "I have nothing to be nervous about."

She pulled away slightly to look up at Enjolras. His blue eyes were already watching her; they were wide and soft, yet there was an unrecognizable look upon them that Éponine had not seen before.

The smile that was on her face slowly disappeared and she bit her lip nervously, her brown eyes gazing from Enjolras' blue eyes and down to his lips, a strange sensation of desire pooling in the pit of her stomach.

Enjolras, almost as if he sensed her desire, lowered his lips to hers and kissed her passionately. As the kiss turned heated, Éponine's tongue found its way into Enjolras' mouth and together, their lips danced in graceful synchronization.

The only sound inside the vehicle was the sound of their moving lips and their labored breathing. Enjolras pulled away from Éponine, their chests heaving, and pressed their sweaty foreheads together.

Éponine, grabbing the hand she had been holding, slowly guided it from her hip, up her ribcage, and on her breast. Enjolras' blue eyes popped open, a burning igniting them. "Éponine—?" Came his soft and unsure voice.

"I want you to touch me, Enjolras."

A beat of silence and Enjolras' blue eyes searched Éponine's brown ones. "Are you sure?" Enjolras asked her, his expression cautious.

With her trembling free hand, Éponine reached up and lowered Enjolras' head to her face. "I've never been surer than anything in my life." She echoed his own words back to him, a tender smile on her face.

Enjolras captured her lips once more and this time the kissing became furious; Éponine let herself fall back lower onto the leather seats and allowed Enjolras' weight to press against her.

It was a tangle of limbs and frantic kissing; hands roamed and explored. One by one, articles of clothing shed, their slick and bare bodies making contact.

"Enjolras…" Éponine moaned softly as his lips traveled lower and lower, his hands roaming in places they never had before. The couple learned, experienced, _loved_—together— in each other's arms.

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras had made it back on the deck through a crew door, hands tightly clasped, and laughing happily.

Using the hand Enjolras had a tight grasp on, he moved Éponine closer to him. "It's cold out tonight." His breath was visible when he spoke and he let go of her hand to tighten the coat he had given her around her.

"I can't wait to start my life with you." His hands now made their way to her hips. Éponine's arms wound to his neck.

"We'll wake up late every morning—"

"And we'll spend the days drawing and—"

"—and we'll be _happy_." She finished for him. Enjolras lowered his face to her and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips. His hands found their way to her face and he cradled it tenderly, the kiss deepening when—

There was a piercing sound of crunching, bending iron and the ship shook something terrible. Loud clunks of hardened ice hitting the wooden floors of the deck were also heard; pieces of ice as big as a person's head slid around the deck. The couple broke apart with a staggered expression upon their faces. A few men that were also on the deck were inquiring loudly amongst themselves.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"Is that _ice_?"

Their loud questions were silenced as in front of them appeared the towering figure of an iceberg, passing them by as the ship continued forward. Éponine felt her jaw drop open slightly and rushed over to the starboard rail, joining the men that had gathered there. Enjolras had joined her just in time to see the iceberg moving down the side of the ship.

"We've hit an iceberg." One of the young men breathed.

There was a beat of frightened silence that was broken by another one of the young men that had leaned further and glanced down to look at the side of the ship. "Seems to me like there's no damage, mate. I wouldn't worry."

The second beat of silence was broken by the third of the men yelling and asking his mates to join him in a game of football using a large chunk of ice; Éponine watched as they kicked the piece of ice back and forth for a moment, eyebrows furrowed.

"Enjolras, do you really think there's no damage to the ship?" There was an odd feeling in her gut that something was not right. Enjolras who had been observing the men as well turned back to look over the rail and inspected the side of the ship himself.

Looking down at the ground, she swallowed back the odd feeling and smirked to herself. Quietly, she bent down and grabbed the smallest piece of ice she could find, stepping closer to Enjolras, taking advantage of his momentary distraction. "I don't see anything. I'm sure we're alrigh—"

There was suddenly a stinging cold sensation down his shirt and he let out a yelp. Éponine was laughing hysterically, eyes full of mirth. Enjolras scrambled to get the piece of ice from his shirt and gave Éponine a playful glare.

"That's it," He grabbed at her wrists and she struggled against him, her laughter growing louder. "You're going overboard, you're going overboard." He lifted her easily moved closer to the rail.

"No! No!" Her laughter was contagious and Enjolras broke his fake angered expression, laughing along with her. She broke free from his grasp and pounded him on his arm. "Don't do that!"

Enjolras only pulled her closer and kissed her on the cheek. "That ought to teach you a lesson."

* * *

_11:40 PM _

"What in the world—?" Musichetta stirred from her slumber to the sleepy sound of Joly murmuring in her ear and a tremor that traveled upon the ship.

"Joly?" She called out and sat up to find that he had sat up as well. "Did you feel that?" He asked her with an alarmed expression.

Musichetta nodded at him, her clear eyes concerned. "What do you think it might have been?" Joly gave her an odd look. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it was nothing."

The couple fell back into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras were coming up the steps from the well deck when Mr. Andrews, Captain Smith, and another gentleman she did not recognize passed by. The brunette was about to call out a greeting to Mr. Andrews when the grim expression upon his face stopped her.

The three men were huddled together, seeming to be discussing something serious. Enjolras stepped closer to them, a calculating expression upon his face. Something the men said that Éponine could not quite hear, made Enjolras' face grow concerned.

He lowered himself to whisper in her ear. "It sounds like things are not as good as I thought." Éponine's brown eyes grew large. "What do you mean?"

"Things are bad, Éponine. Bad."

Swallowing hard and biting her lip, Éponine brought her hands to her face. "Enjolras, you have to go warn your family. And I have to go find Musichetta."

"Éponine, I'm done with them. I'm not—" She stopped his speaking by putting a hand on his arm. "Enjolras I know you do not getting along with them, but nonetheless, they are your family. At least let them know what is going on and then you can be free of them."

Enjolras let out a sigh and closed his eyes tightly for a moment. He then nodded and opened his eyes once more. "Fine. But will you come with me? I'll go and help you find Musichetta afterward."

Éponine gave him a small smile and nodded back at him. "Alright."

* * *

_April 15, 1912 12:15 AM_

When Enjolras and Éponine neared the suite the Enjolras family was staying at, their walk began to slow when they noticed Enjolras Sr. and Clementine standing at the door, the blonde woman looking murderous.

"There she is!" Clementine shrieked. "I told you she was with him! He brought her in here; I wouldn't trust scum like her, I want her searched!" Éponine scoffed and crossed her arms defensively. Clementine mimicked her stance and muttered to herself, "Where is that good for nothing man?"

Enjolras' father only gazed at the two of them coolly, eyeing Éponine and the coat on her form a little bit too long. In his hands was a crinkled piece of parchment. "Well—I was under the pretense I would not be seeing you again." He waved the letter for a moment.

Enjolras only looked at his father stoically before answering. "Don't worry—we're not going to stay here long. We've come to warn you—" Not a moment later a portly man in a uniform—the Master at Arms— walked up to them all.

"Good evening, sirs," He barely glanced at Éponine and bowed his head respectively at Clementine. "Miss. I apologize for my tardiness. What exactly are my services in need for?" His blue eyes traveled to look at all of them individually.

"I want you to search her," Clementine sneered. "Anything valuable on her person must not be _hers_." The Master at Arms raised an eyebrow at Clementine. "Are you missing anything valuable, miss?"

Clementine lifted her head higher and glared at the man. "You did not come to inquire me—now do as you were told!"

Enjolras though was having none of it. He quickly stepped in front of Éponine who also began to protest. "She hasn't taken anything! She was with me the whole time, I can assure you—"

The Master at Arms though, only shoved him aside. "I am only doing my job, sir. Besides if she is as innocent as you claim, then it should not be a problem, me searching her." He looked at Enjolras challengingly.

Enjolras opened his mouth once more to retort but Éponine but a hand on his arm and shook her head. "It's no problem, sir. You can search me."

The Master at Arms stepped forward and searched every pocket she had, also forcing her to remove the coat. "She has nothing on her person, sir, miss." The man finally announced and handed Éponine the coat back.

Enjolras Sr. though stepped forward, eyes hard. "That coat—it belongs to me."

There was a beat of silence before the Master at Arms began toward Éponine. "Come here, girl." He growled out and grasped at her shoulders. "Get your hands off me!" She yelled back and struggled against him.

Anger filled Enjolras and he stepped forward to push away the uniformed man. "Let her go!" He shouted and then turned to his father. "I gave her the jacket myself. She did not steal it!"

The Master at Arms let his grip on Éponine loosen and looked at Enjolras Sr. "You gave her the jacket, you say?"

Enjolras nodded at his father. Enjolras Sr. stood silent for a moment before regarding the Master at Arms. "Arrest him, then."

Clementine's jaw dropped in shock and Éponine immediately began to counter, "What—no!" The Master at Arms seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Sir, are you certain—"

"Arrest him. He is no son of mine and therefore he stole from me."

Enjolras felt his face flush in rage and gazed at his father with an expression of contempt. He felt the Master at Arms handcuffing his wrists and heard Éponine's loud exclamations but in that moment all he could do was gaze at his father.

"Now I know I made the right decision!" Enjolras yelled back at his father as the Master at Arms began to drag him away.

Éponine followed after them and attempted to paw off the Master at Arms. "Girl, I suggest you take your leave!" The mustached man sneered at her.

"Enjolras—!"

Enjolras made the effort to turn to Éponine and tried to give her a comforting smile. "Go. I don't want you getting in trouble either. Go find Musichetta, find safety. I'll be all right, Éponine." was the last he said before he was completely tugged away.

"Enjolras, I'll get help! I'll find you!" Éponine yelled after him desperately.

Blinking back tears of anger, worry, and frustration, she set off. She didn't know where to start, but she had to find a way to get Enjolras back.

* * *

_April 15, 1912 12:55 AM_

When Éponine found herself wandering the A-Deck much later, she noticed there were a few White Star Line crew members handing out white life jackets and urging people to get to the deck. That was when she knew the possible severity of the situation.

The weight she felt in her chest slightly relieved when she saw Mr. Andrews talking to two first class passengers. "Please, I urge you—get your wives to the deck immediately. The lifeboats will begin to load soon." The two gentlemen shared a startled look and one of them murmured something to Mr. Andrews before the two of them hastily walked away.

Éponine waited a moment before approaching him. His face was that of seriousness and concern. "Mr. Andrews!"

The gentleman looked much older Éponine noticed, now that she was closer to him. "Miss Éponine, good evening—how can I be of assistance?" The smile he gave her was genuine but she could see it was an effort to bring his lips upwards.

From her observations, Éponine had gathered on what may be troubling the kind man.

Éponine opened her mouth and looked at him uncertainly and whispered. "Mr. Andrews—the ship—it is going to sink, right?" Mr. Andrews' smile faltered completely and he let out a long sigh.

"I cannot lie to you, Miss. Yes, the Titanic will sink."

"How long?"

"One hour and a half. Two if luck is on our side."

Éponine's breath hitched and she closed her eyes tightly, swallowing hard. "Mr. Andrews, I need you to tell me where the Master at Arms would take someone they've arrested."

The man raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Éponine, no you must get to the deck. I've ordered for the lifeboats to begin being filled. Passengers are being fetched from their suites—you must get to safety."

"Mr. Andrews, please!" She pleaded. The man was silenced. He hesitated for a moment but must have seen the urgency and the desperation in her eyes because not a moment later he nodded at her. "Very well, miss. Listen closely."

Mr. Andrews stumbled over his words as he explained to her where to go. "Head straight to the bottom, to the left, you'll see the Crew's Passage. From there make a right, then another left at the stairs and you'll see a long corridor."

Éponine let out a whoosh of a breath. "Thank you, Mr. Andrews." He gave her another nod and she took that as her cue to leave.

"Miss Éponine!"

She stopped walking and turned around to look at him. "Good luck. Stay safe."

"You too, Mr. Andrews." She gave him a departing smile before setting off to find Enjolras.

* * *

_12:55 AM_

Musichetta and Joly were startled awake to a loud pounding on the door. Joly jumped down from the top bunk to open the door but when he landed, he let out a loud yelp and muttered a string of French curse words; his feet were submerged under a growing puddle of icy water.

"Joly, _qu'est-ce qui cloche_?" Musichetta's voice cut through his dark muttering. Joly reached over to snap the lights on and Musichetta's jaw dropped when her eyes took in the flooding. The door continued to bang in the background.

Musichetta was ready to bounce from the bunk and open the door but was stopped by Joly who finally flung open the door. On the other side was a flush faced Grantaire who looked sober since the first time she had met him.

"We've got to get the hell out of here." Was Grantaire's greeting. Joly's face hardened and he nodded. "I'll go round up my _maman_ and sister. We'll meet you and 'Chetta in the corridor in five minutes."

"Joly no—we can't leave. Éponine has no idea—" The usually soft spoken man shook his head at her. "Musichetta, I'm sure Éponine is alright. If anyone knows how to take care of themselves it is her. But there's water flooding and we need to move so please…" He trailed off and gave her a desperate look.

Musichetta's face softened and she nodded at him. "Very well." Grantaire offered a hand to her and helped her down from the bunk. She let out a squeak as her toes numbed in the rising cold water.

* * *

_1:05 AM_

Captain Smith stood tersely on the deck, two officers beside him. He watched as hoards of people scurried in a panic on the deck. He then motioned for five other officers across the way. They walked to him obediently, their faces grave.

"Begin to load the lifeboats. Women and children only."

* * *

_1:10 AM_

Enjolras was alone. The Master at Arms had been called away urgently and left him on his own. From where he was cuffed, he eyed the ring of brass keys, his eyes setting on the smaller one.

That was the key he needed in order for him to be un-cuffed.

Enjolras would not deny that he was worried. He had heard the loud whisper to the Master at Arms before he was called out of the room. _"The ship is sinking, James. You are needed on deck."_

His blue eyes wandered to the porthole behind him and his eyebrows furrowed as he was now able to see the blue water of the Atlantic Ocean. The _Titanic_ was sinking, undoubtedly. Right now he only hoped that Éponine was able to find Musichetta and that she was safe.

With the thought of her twinkling brown eyes, always full of life, her warm smile—with the thought of her laugh, her kisses, her touch, his heart began to ache, a throb in his chest.

Turning away from the window, he once more caught sight of the ring of brass keys. Enjolras was suddenly filled with a boiling rage and a slight panic—he harshly pulled at the handcuffs, the clinking of metal against metal echoing loudly in the loud room.

"GOD DAMMIT. IS SOMEONE OUT THERE?" He yelled and pulled at his cuffs harder, the clanking louder. "HELP! HEL—" He silenced when from his peripheral vision he saw a puddle of water begin to slide in smoothly through the door.

The young man's breathing became heavier and he took in a large breath. "SHIT—" Enjolras hissed and not wasting any time, used a table close to him for leverage hauling himself upward to stand on it. "HELP! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?"

_Clank. Clank. Clank._

* * *

Éponine's gasp echoed in the elevator. It had taken her long enough but she had found where Mr. Andrew's had instructed her.

First, she had shoved an unwilling elevator operator out the elevator as he had refused to take her down. It took her a moment to work it, but it had just gotten her to the bottom floor of the ship—E-Deck.

What she had not expected was the rush of cold, cold water that began to pool at her legs and fill the elevator. "Dammit!"

She rushed forward and shoved the gates of the elevator open and looked to her surroundings. She trudged forward, the water at her knees and closed her eyes for a moment, shivers beginning to take over her body. Letting out a breath, Mr. Andrew's instructions resonated in her mind.

"_Head straight to the bottom, to the left, you'll see the Crew's Passage. From there make a right, then another left at the stairs and you'll see a long corridor."_

"Left." Her voice was hollow as she whispered to herself, walking in that very direction. "Left."

Letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing the Crew's Passage, she made the right and not much later found herself at a staircase. As she made a left, her breathing only grew harder; the water was freezing and her legs were now numb. Her entire body trembled, not only because of the cold but from nerves. Fear.

The ship was sinking and even if she—no, _when_ she found Enjolras, it was not certain they would survive the ordeal.

Éponine, after making the left, was met with a long empty corridor. "ENJOLRAS!" The brunette yelled as loud as she could, her voice piercing the eerie silence. After a beat of quiet, she heard a faint clanking at the end of the hall and shouting.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she began to trudge forward faster, the water now at her thighs. "ENJOLRAS!"

The faster she walked, the louder the clanking and shouting got. "ÉPONINE? ÉPONINE—IN HERE!"

Shoving a drifting chair to the side, Éponine yanked open the door from where she heard Enjolras' voice. Her heart soared when she caught sight of Enjolras, who was frantically trying to keep himself balanced a desk. "You found me."

His voice was tired but Éponine could hear the happiness and relief tinted in it. Her brown eyes raked over him and she gave him an exhausted grin. "I told you I would."

The two of them smiled at each other, their eyes taking each other in almost as if their lives depended on it. The sound of rushing water is what pulled Enjolras from their moment and he nodded at the cabinet containing the ring of brass keys.

"Éponine—in that cabinet over there is a set of brass keys. I need for you to get them and look for the smallest. Those are the keys to unlocking the handcuffs."

Éponine blinked for a moment before nodding. "Right." She sloshed through the water and pushed aside bobbing furniture. When she reached the cabinet, her shaking hands grabbed for the only set of brass keys.

Not only a moment later did they drop down into the water with a plop. "Shit." The small girl dropped to her knees and felt around for them, locating them easily. Enjolras sighed in relief.

"The smallest one." Enjolras reminded her as she got closer to him. Éponine only nodded at him and with trembling hands, she picked out the smallest key.

With some difficulty due to her tremors, she finally placed the key within the lock and turned.

_Click._

The handcuffs dropped to the water and with a splash, Enjolras jumped from the desk to the water. He winced at the temperature but it was soon forgotten when the brunette fiercely wrapped her arms around his torso.

Her shoulders were shaking madly and he in turn wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing his face into her curls, breathing in her scent. "Thank you for finding me." He whispered.

She pulled her face away from his chest to look up at him and tried to give him a teasing smile. "Anytime." Enjolras laughed slightly through his nose before pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"We have to keep moving."

* * *

_1:45 AM_

Officer Murdoch watched with bated breath as the first of the twenty lifeboats was lowered down to the ocean. His ears roared with the deafening panic that surrounded him on deck; cries of horror that came from many different languages.

His blue eyes watered from the bitter cold of the April night. "LOWER!" His eyes followed the lowering boat until it reached the water. Women held their children to their bodies, grief and terror painted on their faces.

He swallowed hard and blinked back tears as he watched the boat begin to row away. "ROW!"

* * *

Éponine breathed a sigh of relief when she and Enjolras finally located the stair case leading to the D-Deck. The water was now at their shoulders and the two of them were soaked to the bone. When Éponine had made it up the first step, she felt heavy and weighed down, the skirts of her woolen dress pressing to her.

She hastily ascended the stairs Enjolras not far behind her. When they made it to the landing, Éponine felt her stomach swoop as she slipped and landed on the floor in an odd position.

From her cracked lips escaped a cry, as she felt a painful throb in her left ankle. "Éponine!" Enjolras rushed forward and lowered himself to her level. "Are you alright? Did you hurt anything?"

"My left ankle." She said through clenched teeth. Enjolras carefully reached over and gently grabbed for her injured ankle. She hissed slightly and swallowed hard. "It'll be okay, Enjolras. Help me up. We have to keep going."

Before he could reply, there were loud creaking noises and the lights slightly flickered. Their eyes immediately met.

His blue eyes searched hers in concern. Her brown eyes were pained but he knew she was right. They had to find a way to the deck. He lifted her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Éponine urged Enjolras forward and the two of them briskly walked ahead.

* * *

_In Life Boat No. 6_

Clementine's green eyes surveyed the 27 other passengers in the lifeboat she had boarded. Her heart was lead in her chest, heavy with what one can only describe as sadness.

She noticed a young woman to her left, a third class passenger, crying loudly. The girl was clutching a locket to her chest. Not far from the crying girl sat an older woman, a mother holding two young children close to her. The little girl pressed to her side was inconsolable.

Clementine quickly took her eyes off of them and blinked back tears. The farther the lifeboat she, her mother, and Madame Enjolras were in rowed from the _RMS Titanic_, the heavier her heart became. In horror she watched as the great ship she had been so much in awe of slowly sunk into the Atlantic Ocean.

The panicked cries coming from the ship were fainter but still able to be heard as they pierced the silence of the night.

Clementine's lips wobbled and Madame Airoldi who was seated beside her was startled to hear a choked sob escape her normally stoic and composed daughter. Madame Airoldi only pursed her lips and looked away in embarrassment. "Weakness is not tolerated, Clementine." She scolded her daughter quietly.

The younger Airoldi pressed her hand to her mouth and attempted to compose herself. Catherine Brown who was seated on Clementine's other side slowly made grab for the other hand which rested on Clementine's lap.

Her glove clad hand was warm. Clementine slightly stiffened and her puffy green eyes narrowed at Catherine who only gave her a slight but comforting smile.

With a small sigh, Clementine dropped her eyes only to return them to the brunette girl once more. She did her best to smile back.

* * *

Musichetta jumped as the gate that separated the bunch of third class passengers from the main stairwell to the deck shook loudly, someone up front shouting at the crew member on the other side, refusing to open up.

The tall, auburn haired girl was at the back of the crowd beside Joly, his younger sister, and his mother. Grantaire was up front with other men that were attempting to get the crew member to open the gate. He was the only one of the three that spoke the best English so he volunteered to go up.

Joly's thumb gently made soft patterns on the palm of her hand as he tenderly held it. It soothed Musichetta.

For what seemed to be the hundredth time that night, she blinked back tears. Musichetta could not get her mind off of Éponine and wondered if her dear friend was alright.

Closing her eyes and bowing her head, Musichetta did the only thing she could do. She began to pray. "_Notre Père, qui es aux cieux…_"

* * *

**Ah, we're almost done. I can't even. I apologize if there are any mistakes—I've tweaked a LOT of this chapter and I may have missed some things. I was initially going to make this chapter longer but I decided to cut it and add the rest of it to the next chapter to make the last one longer. I really hope you all liked this one and I hope to have the final chapter out this week. Not Tuesday as I have my university orientation on that day but hopefully Thursday or Friday.**

**P.S.: I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone who was looking forward to a smutty love scene between them but I'm just absolutely awful at it and very incapable of writing smut. I'm also sorry if the scene I wrote is awkward. I suck at it like I said. I'm sorry, haha!**

**P.P.S: You guys can find me on Tumblr! Come and feel free to come join me! My url aar-tveit . (Tumblr) . c o m ! Come and chat with me over there any time!**

**Translations:**

"**Joly, qu'est-ce qui cloche?" – Joly, what's wrong?**

"**Notre Père, qui es aux cieux…" – The beginning of the Lord's Prayer in French.**


	4. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi, everyone! To those that thought this was an update, I'm so very sorry. I know it's been a million years and I seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth.

I haven't updated any stories in 3 or more months and I'm awful for it. Now this was just an author's note to let you all know I'm not dead and that I'm NOT abandoning any of my stories.

For **The Ship of Dreams**, I plan on finishing that story before August 30th, so expect an update sometime soon! I've taken ages because I want this story's ending to be realistic and perfect and I want it to live up to all of you guys' expectations!

For **The Sight**—I will resume chapters some time after SOD ends.

For **Mon Mystérieux Sauveur**—I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure how to continue this story. It was my first and holds a special place in my heart and I'm determined to complete it. I WILL finish it—just not any time soon. Please, I ask you all for patience! I've thought long and hard about this decision but for now, it is officially on _**hiatus**_. I have some of the next chapter written and I may post it soon but if not, I'm really sorry.

The reason why I haven't updated any of my stories is because I've been in kind of a small funk and had major writer's block. I'm trying to pull myself out of it and get back in the groove. The truth is I really enjoy writing for you guys and I want to be able to do that again for you all.

After August 30th, the updates will continue to be slow, although I'll try to be as quick as possible. I'm starting school again soon—my first year of university—and I'm probably going to be hounded with work.

To close this author's note, I just want to sincerely thank every single one of my readers. You guys don't know how much every review, follow, favorite, etc. means to me.

All I ask is for patience and I hope you all continue to stick around.

Love you all,

Adri (MademoiselleEnjolras)


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